"Throw him under the bus," she said.
But her eyes were on me.
Aisha and I shared everything. Food. Notes. Dreams.
Then one scholarship. One name only.
2am. She knocked. No tears. Just facts.
"If I say you cheated, they’ll kick you out. I’ll go to Lagos. I’ll send money home."
I laughed. Then I saw her face. She meant it.
"Girl, save yourself," she whispered. "Lagos is too much."
Save myself? Or save her?
Next morning I walked to the dean first.
"Yes sir. I cheated. It was me."
The bus left that afternoon. She was on it.
I stayed with shame and an empty bed.
Years later: Her post - "CEO. Lagos. Brand owner."
Me: Village. Pure water. Small shop. Still standing.
She got the bus.
I got the road.
And the road taught me how to walk.
Ever been the sacrifice?
image is AI generated ✨
